


find you down in the wishing well

by fairytalelights



Category: St Trinian's (2007 2009)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crimes & Criminals, Exes to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 18:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20030302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelights/pseuds/fairytalelights
Summary: She pushes the door of the stall open, putting on her best “frightened-little-girl-who-wouldn't-harm-a-fly”-expression. It drops as soon as she looks up.Because there, standing in front of her in a quite-small museum in the middle of nowhere, is Kelly Jones. Her almost-quasi-ex-girlfriend.or, the one where Annabelle enters a life of crime. It may or may not be to get Kelly's attention.





	find you down in the wishing well

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Jana, for making me watch the St. Trinian movies! I agree, they /are/ gay culture. As a result I wrote fanfic.

“Careful, if you take one step to the right, you're going to trigger the alarm!” a panicked voice shouts into Annabelle's ear. She takes a step to the left. Immediately, a wailing of sirens starts up around her, so deafening that Annabelle has to resist the urge to put her hands over her ears and wait until it's over.

“Oops,” the sheepish voice of her tech assistant – sat comfortably in front of a monitor in a safe location right now – pipes up again. “I meant my right. Your left.”

Annabelle grits her teeth and fights the urge to scream. She loves Celia, but one day she might have to fire her. If she makes it out of this alive.

She tunes Celia’s babbling out, looking around calmly. She already has the item – a silver brooch that was allegedly stolen from her client's ancestors over a century ago – so feigning innocence is not an option. Except-

In a moment of sheer desperation, Annabelle exchanges her usual necklace for the stolen brooch, slipping the worn out black choker with the padlock into her skirt pocket. Then she strolls, as casually as she can, into the museum's bathroom. There, she flushes her in-ears down the drain, wincing. Celia is gonna be annoyed, these things are expensive.

Then, she sits down on one of the closed toilet seats, and waits. It takes exactly one minute and thirty-two seconds until the door opens. This museum either has a very slow security system, or they called for back-up already. _ This _ might be the back-up.

“We know you're in there! Come out with your hands up!” The voice gives Annabelle pause for a second, mostly because it's distinctly  _ female _ . That's not something that happens often in her line of work.

She pushes the door of the stall open, putting on her best “frightened-little-girl-who-wouldn't-harm-a-fly”-expression. It drops as soon as she looks up.

Because there, standing in front of her in a quite-small museum in the middle of nowhere, is Kelly Jones. Her almost-quasi-ex-girlfriend.

“So?” Kelly asks, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She had lowered her weapon as soon as she spotted Annabelle, which Annabelle is counting as a win right now. “Do you want me to arrest you or are you gonna claim you didn't do anything?”

“Um, that depends,” Annabelle starts. “What am I being accused of?”

“At the moment? Just breaking and entering. Not leaving the museum when you were supposed to. But I know you. I know what your job is.”

“You do?” Annabelle is honestly surprised. She considers herself an exclusive treasure hunter, but she knows it's an exaggeration she puts on her business cards. She is, at most, a low-level thief.

Celia's “safe location” is just their shared flat. She's probably on the couch right now, considering that they don't even have a proper spare room from which to conduct their missions.

“Yes, darling,” Kelly smiles. Annabelle doesn't know what makes her heart beat faster, the pet name or the intensity of Kelly's gaze. She forgot what it was like to have Kelly's undivided attention on her. “M.I.7 has a file on you, you know.”

She leans in close. Too close, for Annabelle's liking. She's sure Kelly can hear her heartbeat, can sense what a mess she is right now. All that carefully built-up facade, reduced to nothing in seconds of being in Kelly Jones' presence.

“Mostly that file is just for me though,” Kelly adds, a smirk still playing around her lips. Annabelle was once one of the few people Kelly allowed to see past that smirk. It shouldn't give her a pang that she apparently isn't anymore.

“For you?” The words don't make sense in Annabelle's head.

“So I can keep up with you, of course, darling. You've been making a bit of a mess in the beginning. Had to call in a favour to keep small-town police chiefs from making a fuss more often than I'd like to admit. But you're getting better, I'll give you that.”

Annabelle can feel the colour drain from her face. Most of the emotions swirling inside of her at the moment are too complicated to deal with right now, so she picks the easiest one. Anger.

“I didn't need your help,” she spits out, tired of still being talked down to, after all these years, after all she did so Kelly would finally-

“Oh, so you didn't leave fingerprints all over the house of the old man that you tricked into selling you various valuable paintings? And you didn't let yourself almost get caught by that casino guard after cheating at blackjack for a few  _ hours _ ? And you-”

“Okay, I get it,” Annabelle grits out. Her life is a bit of a mess. She doesn't need Kelly of all people to remind her. “I'm a failure. Can you just arrest me, so we can move on, now?”

Immediately, Kelly's smile drops.

“Oh, no, sweetheart, you aren't a failure. I'm sorry, I thought it was just banter. I took it too far.” She uncrosses her arms, reaching for one of Annabelle's hands. Stupidly, Annabelle lets her.

“I was just a bit angry at you,” Kelly admits, almost sheepishly.

Annabelle gasps, offended. “Angry? You? If anyone has the right to be angry here, it's definitely me!”

“I know darling, I'm sorry,” Kelly offers. It's been three years since they last saw each other. Annabelle doesn't know if a simple  _ sorry _ is going to cut it right now. “I was just – stupidly – hoping you might still be wearing it. You were on a few security photos I saw of you. It's okay that you're not. This looks very pretty as well.” Then, inexplicably, she points to the  _ brooch.  _ The one Annabelle just stole.

There's a split second in which Annabelle wonders what to tell her, but then her brain kind of makes the decision without her. She bursts into laughter. The kind of laughter that is, in her experience, very  _ unsexy _ , and also kind of difficult to explain away. When she recovers, she pushes herself up on her tiptoes so she's directly in Kelly's face, on equal standing.

“I can't believe you expect me to be a loser who pines after her ex so much that she still wears her necklace three years later, even if said ex hasn't spoken to her once in said three years, and has instead decided to stalk her via  _ government surveillance _ .” It's worth it to see Kelly's guilty expression, even if Annabelle is still trying not to start laughing again.

“I'm sorry Anna, I know-” Kelly starts.

“Luckily,” Annabelle interrupts her. “That's exactly the sort of loser I am.” She pulls the black choker out of her pocket, the locket still on it, unchanged. Without looking, Annabelle knows that Kelly's eyes have zoomed in on the engraving.  _ A + K forever _ .

“Thought you might have thrown it away by now,” Kelly murmurs.

“Never,” Annabelle whispers, quickly taking the brooch off. She lets Kelly put the necklace around her neck again, where it sits perfectly, basically molded into her skin after so many years of wearing it. “You know why I started this job?”

Kelly shakes her head. If Annabelle didn't know any better she'd say her expression was awed.

“I wanted you to  _ notice _ me. I know you have your important job and never have time and I just wanted to be  _ good enough _ .” Annabelle keeps her gaze on the ground, something she trained herself out of doing years ago. She just can't bear to look at Kelly right now.

“Darling,” Kelly sighs, trailing her fingers over Annabelle's neck, hooking her finger under the choker, pulling her chin up with the other hand. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Annabelle sighs, and forgets, for a moment, that they are still in a museum's bathroom, that there is probably still a security team after her, that Kelly might need to pull a few more strings to get her out of this one and that she still has a stolen brooch on her.

In this moment though, kissing her now-maybe-again-girlfriend for the first time in three years, these things seem to not matter anymore.

Except maybe, five minutes later, when Kelly asks, “Wait. Then why were you wearing the other necklace when I came in earlier-” and Annabelle has to kiss her quiet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Title taken from "Wishing Well" by Stomper & Daniel Eppel.  
You can leave comments or kudos here if you liked it (and would like to yell about St. Trinian with me)!
> 
> (I'm here on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fairytalelights) and on [Tumblr](https://lookslikefairytale.tumblr.com), if you wanna say hi.)


End file.
